


The Secretary

by saltandbyrne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Barebacking, Claiming, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, Knotting, Light Bondage, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Claiming, Public Sex, Rimming, Secretaries, Spanking, suspenders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 00:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/pseuds/saltandbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kink meme prompt. It's a Terrible Life 'verse. Dean Smith's new secretary has been driving him crazy for weeks, with his natural obedience, perpetual sex hair and that goddamn scent. So when Castiel forgets to take his suppressants and goes into heat in the office, Dean just can't freaking help himself anymore and bends Cas over his desk in a frenzied, possessive, semi-public claiming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Hire

Dean hasn't eaten carbs in eight days when he smells it.

Why do they put breakfast pastries out on Wednesdays? No one should eat that much refined sugar.

Dean rolls his eyes and walks past the break room, fat-free rice milk latte in one hand while his briefcase hangs from the other.

He's just getting settled into his desk when Mr. Adler leans against his door.

“Got a minute, Dean?” Dean smiles, nods and prays that this won't be one of those hour-long musings about synchronicity that his boss likes to indulge in. He has work to do.

“Great, that's just great, Dean.” Dean clicks his email closed as Adler steps into the room. When he looks away from the screen, Adler is standing by his desk but he's not alone.

Standing about a foot behind him is a shy-looking young man, nervously blinking his wide blue eyes and fidgeting with his tie. His slacks are neatly pressed but his hair looks like he just went two rounds with an angry raccoon. Dean can picture the man running his hands through it, nervous habit, just like the lip-chewing this guy obviously did. Someone needed to introduce him to chapstick.

“Dean, this is Castiel Novak, your new secretary.”

The man smiles at Dean and waves his hand before he clasps them both behind his back, eyes immediately returning to the floor.

Dean knows how important it is to have a good relationship with support staff, so he stands up and walks over to the man. He gets about a foot before it hits him – that  _smell_ , jesus. Dean feels his throat get thick as his mouth waters, itch under his skin making him tug on his collar before he even realizes it.

Breakfast pastries, my fucking knot, Dean thinks.

They hired an omega?

Adler's got this pinched smile on his face as he babbles on about the new addition to the Sandover family, Dean barely listening to him as he shakes Castiel's hand.

His skin is so  _soft_. Dean lingers on it for a second longer than he ought to.

“Castiel, Dean Smith. Director of Sales and Marketing. You'll be supporting him directly.” Adler grins like he just brokered a deal for world peace.

Placing an omega this high up on the corporate ladder was, Dean had to admit, a brilliant PR move for Sandover's diversity profile. And fucking Adler, beta dickbag, wasn't the one who had to smell him.

“Castiel, welcome to the team.” Dean falters a bit when he pronounces Castiel's name. It's hard to say new words when you're vividly imagining your dick in someone's mouth.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith.” Cas smiles up at Dean, eyes widening as the omega's nostrils flare slightly. “Most people call me Cas, if that's easier for you.”

His eyes are back on the floor before he's done speaking. Dean watches a tiny bead of sweat form on the curve of his jaw, so small no one but Dean and his freak eyesight would be able to see it. Dean wonders what his tongue would feel like running up that arc of bone to lick it off.

Oh this is not good, Dean thinks, biting the inside of his cheek. Dean needs this job, and the last thing he needs is some messy office romance fucking it up. Dean never really thought of himself as an omega guy, although he did always like brunettes.

If Dean could survive on lemon juice, quinoa and chard for three weeks, he could certainly control himself around blue-eyed eau du porno over here.

“Well, Cas, I'm sure you'll be a great addition to the team.” Dean raises his eyebrows at Adler, hoping he gets the message and lets him get back to work.

“Thank you, sir.” Cas looks back up at him quickly, and Dean catches a tiny slip of pink tongue over those chapped lips.

“You don't...” Dean means to tell Cas that he doesn't have to call him “Sir,” Dean's never been one to stand on ceremony. Instead he just smiles. “Just don't let Adler here bore you to death, I have plenty of work for you.”

Cas smiles at him as Adler dramatically rolls his eyes and shoots Dean the dreaded double thumbs-up. Dean reciprocates, hoping he doesn't look too exasperated.

Dean watches as the omega follows behind Adler, trying not to trail his eyes over the slim curve of Cas' hips as he walks.

Fucking Adler.

*

Cas proves to be a perfect secretary, unobtrusive and efficient. And he's observant, noting how Dean likes his coffee and which brand of water he prefers (BPA free bottles, artesian-well filtered).

The company puts on a sexual harassment sensitivity seminar, which has absolutely nothing to do with the walking stick of boner incense that strolls into Dean's office every day, not at all. Even the betas seem sensitive to him, although they have no idea how bad it could be.

Dean rarely envies betas, but he wonders if his days would run smoother if he wasn't so sensitive to Cas. It's not just that he smells like vaporized viagra. Dean can tell when he's tired, when he's upset, when he's eaten something sweet for breakfast.

Cas can clearly do the same, his ability to anticipate Dean's needs going way beyond intuition. And he's always so subservient, shy ducks of his head and quick glances up through those fucking eyelashes of his.

Dean's always prided himself on bucking alpha stereotypes, keeping his cool and thinking with his head instead of his knot. But there are certain things about his nature that he can't deny.

Cas is so  _submissive_ , and Dean has a well-hidden 5-terabyte drive of porn that will testify to just how much Dean likes wide-eyed submissives with dark hair and gorgeous fuck-me lips.

 _Oh this is not good_ , Dean had thought to himself as he jerked off in the shower that morning imagining Cas saying "Yes, sir," to everything Dean wanted to do to him. Dean wanted to do very,  _very_  bad things to Cas.

Dean knows the track to regional vice president is not paved with screwing your secretary, so he tries not to stare at Cas' hips as he comes into Dean's office.

Cas has a stack of sales reports in one arm and Dean's coffee in the other. He places Dean's coffee on the desk.

"Will that be all, sir?"

That's another thing, the sir thing. Dean still hasn't bothered correcting that one, and he's not sure he wants to.

"Yes, Cas, that's all of them."

Dean watches Cas shuffle the binders in his arms. "I should have these done by the afternoon, sir." Cas smiles shyly and turns to leave.

Dean goes to sit down and notices a stray binder on his desk. "Oh, Cas, I forgot one."

Cas turns back to Dean so quickly that he drops two of the binders in his haste. He stoops to his knees to pick them up just as Dean steps forward to hand him the extra one.

"Oh, sir, I'm so sorry, how clumsy of me."

Cas is picking up papers and looking flustered so Dean goes to help him.

"Cas, it's ok." Cas stops what he's doing and looks up at Dean.

Dean means to bend down and help Cas, but the sight of him freezes Dean on the spot.

He's blushing, pretty flush on his cheeks, hair all tousled like it always is, face tilted up towards Dean with his lips slightly parted.

Dean once read an article about amputees who suffered phantom pains in their missing limbs. Their sympathetic nervous system never gets the message that, say, a hand is missing, and these people feel sensation in limbs they haven't had for years.

Dean can relate, because he swears he can feel himself reaching out to run his fingers through Cas' hair, how it would be soft but still thick enough that Dean could get a good grip in it. He can almost feel himself pulling that pretty face in to nuzzle against his crotch, hot breath radiating through the imported merino wool of his slacks, perfect fuckable lips running along the hard line of his dick.

Dean can feel all of these things despite the iron will keeping his hands at his sides. He can also feel himself starting to get hard. Dean's sure the sexual harassment coach would have something to say about that, especially given that Cas' face is about a foot away from his crotch.

Cas doesn't seem to have anything to say about it, though, eyes focused on the growing bulge in Dean's pants like it holds the meaning of life. Dean should turn around, dismiss Cas, go for a five mile run and take a cold shower. Instead he steps in a few inches closer, hand coming to rest in his pocket, stretching his pants that much tighter.

Cas breathes in audibly, almost swaying as Dean steps closer. Dean feels a little dizzy too, because sweet mother of Cinnabon that fucking smell is intoxicating, dripping sweet and clouding Dean's vision with images of Cas on his knees like this, naked and collared and dripping wet for Dean's knot. And fuck that's it, isn't it? Cas is  _wet_ , that's why he smells like that, like sugar caramel heroin that Dean wants to drown himself in.

Dean flexes his hands and bites his cheek, thinks of his mom and Adler and that time he saw Uncle Rufus get out of the shower and anything else that'll help get his libido in check.

"Thank you, Cas, that's all."

Dean smooths his hand through his hair and turns to face his desk. He doesn't watch as Cas gathers everything up and turns to leave.

"Yes, sir."

_Oh this is not good at all._

*

Dean decides that he needs to channel some of his extra energy into lowering his body fat percentage and resting heart rate. He goes raw for two weeks and adds P90X to his morning workout.

If anything it makes him worse, constant hunger making him even more susceptible to Cas' scent. He hasn't spent this much time jerking off since he was a teenager.

One day he tells Cas to order him a salad, giving him a precise list of what he wants: spinach, carrots, bean sprouts and raw almonds.

Cas leaves a bag on his desk along with the kombucha Dean's been favoring lately. Dean nods his thanks while he talks into his headset and tries not to think about how much he wants to eat Cas' ass until he screams, lick him open and cover his face with that heady slick. Dean can still smell it in his mind if he tries.

Dean sighs and opens his salad, throwing his tie over his shoulder. He picks up his fork and goes to dig into precisely 400 calories of raw goodness.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Dean groans out. His salad has fucking walnuts on it. Dean isn't supposed to eat walnuts. Dean goes to pick them out, means to toss them in the trash and get some raw almonds after work.

Instead, he feels a tiny impulse spreading through him, dangerous little idea that he should really, really ignore.

Dean picks up the phone. "Cas, can you come in here?"

Cas' hair looks even more mussed up than usual. God, it's like he just rolled out of my bed, Dean thinks. He lingers on that image for a second, Cas all sweaty and marked up, Dean's come leaking down his thighs...

"Cas, what are these?" Cas stares down at the walnut Dean has speared on his fork.

"They're walnuts." Cas looks like a deer in headlights.

"Did I order walnuts, Cas?" Cas is breathing faster, rise and fall of his chest mesmerizing Dean.

"No, sir. Oh, I'm so sorry, I'll go get you a new one right now." Cas has his hands behind his back, which Dean has noticed he does when he's nervous.

"Yes you will, Cas." Dean says it soft enough that Cas has to step closer to his desk. "And you're going to skip lunch today as well."

He watches Cas' mouth fall open, watches his pupils dilate at the soft order Dean just issued. Dean knows his own face is mirroring Cas', mouth watering as he smells it, thick, rich scent of Cas' slick, hitting his nose and running through his veins along with the knowledge that Cas is wet just from Dean telling him what to do.

Dean watches as Cas licks at his lips, eyes focusing everywhere but on Dean. His face is flushing red and he smells so fucking good Dean is questioning his sanity.

Dean bites his own lip quickly, deep breath meant to calm him down only making it worse. Fuck, he needs to get Cas out of here before he does something he'll really regret.

"That's all, Cas." Dean digs his fingernails into his palm and watches as Cas picks up Dean's lunch with shaking hands.

"Yes, sir." Cas speaks so softly Dean can barely hear him, but that doesn't mean it makes him any less hard.

_Not good at all._

*

Dean stops by the health food store on his way home. As he pays for his flax seed oil and spirulina powder, something catches his eye in a little display by the register.

Dean gets to work 20 minutes early the next day, stopping at Cas' desk, neat and bare as always, to leave the little tube of cherry chapstick right in the middle of it.

When Cas brings Dean his salad at lunch time, Dean watches as Cas presses his lips together.

"Very good, Cas." Dean is rewarded with another spine-tingling hit of slick, throwing good sense out the window and palming his dick under the desk as he watches Cas blush and rub his lips together.

"Thank you, sir."

Dean opens his salad and thinks that at least he'll be a  _lean_  pile of sexual frustration.

*

Dean generally avoids the break room at work. That place is a diet derailment gateway drug, plus it has shitty coffee.

But once in a while he has to go past it, like today when he needs to hand something to Caleb in PR and Cas is on lunch.

Dean smells it before he hears anything.

 _Get Cas get Cas get Cas_  his brain is screaming at him, hackles on his neck going up as he senses that Cas is in trouble. Dean follows his nose and some other, deeper part of himself into the breakroom.

Cas is backed up against the wall, yellow-shirted IT beta guy leaning in way too close. Dean thinks of the whole department as the beta bees, with all the yellow shirts and nary a knot in sight on the whole floor. This guy fits that to a tee, weasely little fucker with a greasy ponytail and a sparse goatee.

Dean sees red. He might have some personal space issues with Cas, but no one else gets to be that close to his ... secretary.

Dean usually hates all that growly possessive alpha shit but right now he couldn't turn it off if his life depended on it. He's  _growling_ , actual pit-bull decibel growling at this little bitch who's trying to get up on Dean'smate, and that's not a thought he even has time to process because he's too busy deciding which orifice he's gonna pull weasel bitch's lungs out of.

Dean pins the beta to the wall, forearm slammed against his neck. The man yelps because he's a fucking bitch and Dean's gonna rip his throat out with his teeth and fuck Cas while there's arterial spray on his face and -

"Dean!" Cas is trying to pull him off and he's a lot stronger than he looks and it's the first time Cas has ever said his name.

Dean breathes in a ragged breath and struggles to pull himself together. He tries to stop baring his teeth and fucking growling at the guy, settling on a wolfish version of a smile and a low grumble.

"If you  _look_  at him again, they're gonna be picking your fucking teeth out of your kidneys, got it?"

Dean releases his grip on the beta, who grabs his neck and gasps for air.

"I'm sorry, dude, I didn't realize..." He scurries out of the breakroom, leaving Dean alone with Cas and the sinking feeling settling in his stomach as he realizes what just happened.

Dean's heart is still pounding in his ears, and that's not the only thing throbbing, he realizes to his growing horror.

He looks over at Cas, who looks for all the world like he was the one who just got thrown against the wall, cheeks all red and flushed while he breathes hard and steadies himself against the countertop. And his _scent_ , fuck...

At least Dean wasn't the only one aroused by the Animal Planet documentary he just starred in.

"Cas, fuck ... I'm so sorry..." Dean runs his hand through his hair, tries to smooth it back down.

"No, sir, it's alright, it happens all the time ... I mean,  _that_  doesn't happen all the time, but I'm used to being ... accosted, it sort of comes with the territory." Dean realizes that this is the first time Cas has explicitly said anything to him about being on omega. "I could have handled him myself, but ... Thank you. He was a fucking creep."

He's also never heard Cas curse before, and it isn't helping the campaign to kill Dean's raging hard-on.

"No, it was completely inappropriate, Cas, I'll totally understand if you have to report me -"

"Report you?" Cas smiles, bolder than usual and all Dean can think is how pretty it makes him look. "I should buy you a drink." Cas licks his lips. "Sir."

He turns and walks out of the breakroom, leaving his scent behind along with Dean's gaping mouth.

 _Oh I am so fucked_. Dean swallows thickly and tries to walk back to his office without knocking anything over, noting on the way that he lost a cufflink somewhere in the scuffle. He doesn't dare go back to the breakroom to look for it, for fear he might actually rub himself off against the counter Cas was leaning on.

_Weasely little bitch, I liked those cufflinks._

The next morning, Dean comes in to find a single cufflink sitting on his desk, on top of a post-it note with "Thank You" written on it in neat script.

*

Cas has been late exactly zero times, so Dean is worried when he finally comes in at 10 AM. Dean shoots him an email to make sure he's ok.

Cas comes into his office ten minutes later, hovering in front of his door without actually coming inside. “Can I get you anything, sir?”

Cas looks … different. If he were anyone other than Cas, Dean would say he looks high, but that's not it. He looks  _amazing_ , eyes shining an unearthly blue, pink flush spread over his face, hair standing up like Dean just fucked his face and used his hair for handles. Because Dean hasn't pictured  _that_  little scenario a dozen plus times.

“Cas, can you come in here?” Dean feels like he needs to get a closer look at him, needs to rake his eyes over him until he can remember every square inch of him so he can imagine licking all the good parts when he jerks off later.

Cas hesitates at the door, fingers gripping against the frame like he's fighting a tide pulling him towards Dean.

“Cas, come here.” Dean knows it would be a lie to call that statement anything other than an order.

Cas is breathing heavy, sheen of sweat on his brow as he smiles at Dean.

“Yes, sir.”

He watches Cas walk into his office, steps almost swaying as he makes his way to Dean's desk. Dean can't take his eyes off him, he looks so fucking beautiful, sexy and gorgeous and god jesus fucking christ that _scent_ , it's like Dean can feel it rubbing up against him.

Dean tugs at his tie, because when did it get so fucking hot in here? His suspenders are itching at his shoulders and his mouth won't stop watering and holy fuck he's getting hard and what the fuck is going on with Cas?

Cas staggers closer and makes it about three inches before Dean promptly loses his fucking mind.

There's no other way he can describe it. Dean's never been into hard drugs but he knows that this is what opiates feel like, everything narrowed down to this pinpoint sing the fucking body electric urge, fucking christ Dean feels like he'd claw his own eyes out just to get at Cas.

He's up and out of his chair so fast it spins, leather seat still whirling around as Dean grabs Cas and molds him to his body, pressing in on every inch he can get to as tightly as possible.

Cas smells like heaven, like everything Dean needs in life, and Dean takes a moment to bury his face in Cas' hair like he's stopped himself from doing a million times. It is  _so_  much better than Dean ever let himself imagine.

“Oh god, Cas, fuck,” Dean husks out, words escaping him as his hands map every inch of Cas' back and his mouth closes on Cas', rough press of those plump, ripe cherry chapstick lips a million times better than Dean could have dreamed. Cas is moaning into his mouth, high-pitched keening sound like he's begging, desperate for Dean.

Jesus christ he's in  _heat_ , Dean didn't even think that happened any more, knows there's pills for it but fuck the pills, fuck them to hell because Cas should be like this all the time. Dean's one remaining brain cell that isn't focused on the quickest way to remove the bare minimum of clothing required to pound Cas into tomorrow tries to get Dean to focus, remember that omegas don't think straight when they're like this. Dean tries, he really does.

“Cas, do you …” It's painful to stop kissing him, tear his mouth away and speak. “Do you want this?” Dean's holding him so tight Cas can barely breathe, but he turns his face up to Dean with such a dead-set expression that Dean fears for his life.

“Sir …  _please_ ,” two words growled out in the most desperate, animal tone Dean can imagine, Cas shaking in his arms as Dean scrabbles blindly at the omega's pants, mouth locked back on his as Cas tries to lick his fillings out of his teeth with the force of his kisses.

Dean's running blind, knocking shit off his desk as fast as he can, metal balls of his desk metronome clanking against the floor as Dean rips, not unzips,  _rips_  Cas' fly open.

Dean pulls them over to the desk, sucking Cas' tongue into his mouth one last time before his spins him around and pushes him down to bend over the desk. Cas' pants are down around his ankles but his briefs are still on, and Dean hates them with a passion.

“Jesus fucking christ, Cas,” Dean scratches Cas' ass in his haste to pull those fucking briefs off, “way you smell, way you look, fuck, wanted you the day I saw you.” Dean stops when he gets Cas' underwear down far enough to expose his hole, scent of his slick wafting up to strangle Dean, cloud his vision as he goes into alphamatic.

When Dean has imagined this happening, he's taken his time, slowly undressed Cas, explored every inch of him, licked Cas open until he's squirming and begging for Dean to knot him. He's made Cas come two or three times before he fucks him, made him crawl on his hands and knees and suck Dean's cock and fuck himself with his fingers while Dean told him what a pretty, perfect bitch he was.

All of that shit flies right out Dean's mid-level view wraparound office window when he sees Cas like this, bare-assed and bent over his desk.

“So fucking wet for me, aren't you?” Dean can't bear to take his hands off of Cas long enough to get his suspenders off in one go, so he shrugs them off one at a time, free hand gripping into the meat of Cas' ass to pull him open.

“Make you mine, Cas, mark you up inside until everyone knows who you belong to.” Dean sends the button of his slacks flying across the room, zipper barely down far enough when he pulls his cock out.

Dean's hand is wrapped around his cock, hand already on Cas' hip to steady himself when Cas turns his head to the side, cheek pressed against the desk to cast his eyes back at Dean.

“Yes, sir,” Cas moans out, mouth hanging open as he arches his back and fucking presents himself to Dean, and that is just fucking  _it._ Dean braces his hand on the small of Cas' back and thrusts into him as slow as he can manage, which is twice as fast as usual but nothing about this is familiar to Dean any more.

Dean's had sex before, and plenty of it, but it's only been with beta girls and that one alpha back at Stanford. Lisa was a fucking animal in bed, and Dean almost feels bad comparing her to Cas because anything Dean has ever thought of as sex is 7-up in a champagne glass next to this. It's not even on the same spectrum.

Cas is so  _tight_ , hot and wet inside, rippling grip on Dean's cock that feels too good to be true. Cas is gasping under him and pawing at the desk for purchase as Dean buries himself in  _his_  omega.

“So fucking tight Cas, jesus fuck,” Dean growls out, leaning down to lay his hands over Cas' and press himself against his back. “You ever done this before?” The thought that Cas might be a virgin shouldn't make Dean so excited in theory, but in practice it's making his knot start to swell up.

“Not ...” Cas whimpers as Dean bucks into him. “Not with an alpha.” Dean feels the rumble in his chest for a few seconds before he realizes that it's coming from him, exultant thrill singing through him as his hips snap forward hard enough to make Cas yelp. Dean is  _first_ , only knot Cas is ever gonna take, alpha growl spilling out through his teeth as he bears down on Cas' neck.

“You're mine, Cas,  _mine_.” Dean can hear the desk shaking underneath him as he ploughs into Cas' ass. Cas is trembling, sweat soaking through his shirt. “Wanted you so fucking bad, Cas, drove me fucking crazy.”

Cas is doing something that would sound like sobbing if he wasn't also smiling and arching his hips back like Dean could possibly get himself in any further.

“Slick yourself up getting on your knees for me, think I didn't notice?” Cas moans at that, grip around Dean's cock getting impossibly tighter. “Know what you need, Cas, gonna take care of you, baby,” Dean licks a stripe up the back of Cas' neck, salty sweet hitting his tongue as Cas whimpers and ruts himself back against Dean's swelling knot. “Make you my little slut, perfect little bitch for me.”

Dean's grateful that he's already bent over the desk because he just might black out as he hears Cas scream out some incoherent string of sounds and fucking jesus  _fuck_  he's coming, tight ring of muscle working against Dean's cock like a vise. Dean doesn't even realize that he's closed his teeth over the nape of Cas' neck, claiming bite sinking into him as the scent of Cas' come makes his mouth water. Drooling onto the back of someone's neck would not have been on Dean's list of most awesome shit ever but it's totally going into the top ten ranking after this.

Dean can't pull his teeth off Cas, knows he should probably be kissing him and telling him that he's gonna take care of him forever and never let him go, but it's perfect like this, hands gripped into Cas' against his desk, growl he's never heard come out of himself resonating through his chest and into the perfect, mewling pile of sex trapped beneath him.

It hits him square between the eyes, so intense he picks Cas' hand up right along with his and pounds it against the desk, growls some endless looped combination of  _Cas_  and  _Mine_  and  _Fuck_  against his omega's neck as he comes, screams as it's ripped out of him, from some deeper part of himself that knows he's claiming Cas for life, painting him white on the inside so they can both start over together fresh and new.

Cas might be saying, “Yes, sir,” under Dean, but all Dean can hear is the rush of blood in his ears and what he could swear is Cas' heartbeat as his knot swells inside his mate, locks them together as Dean fills him with white heat and moans as he feels Cas ripple around him and milk it all out, omega sighing out in sated exhaustion. Dean manages to unlock his jaw and bury his nose in Cas' hair, close his eyes and smell him as he bucks his hips and grunts with each wave of come pumping out of him.

Dean's still feeling high and fuzzy when he hears a knock on his door, snapping his neck around to bare his teeth at the intruder, some new guy from IT. Dean flares his nostrils and growls when he smells the guy, seems like they finally hired an alpha up there, lanky tall guy with floppy hair and foxy eyes that are doubling in size as he stares and staggers at the smell in the air.

“Not a good time,” Dean manages to grate out, knot tied up in Cas' ass the only thing keeping him from killing the guy.

“Uh, yeah, I can see that, I'm just, um, wow, that's, yeah, alright then,” the other alpha steps back slowly. “I'm just gonna, um, close the door, act like this never happened, ok?” He shakes his head and pulls the door closed behind him as he backs away like he's afraid to take his eyes off Dean.

Dean hears Cas let out a low laugh, and it clears his head enough that he can laugh, too.

“Well that was ...” Cas huffs out a breath.

“Yeah.” Dean still has his fingers clasped over Cas' hands, so he just squeezes them. “Cas … what happened?”

“I, um, forgot to take my pills?” Cas up-talks that one into an unsure question that Dean already knows the answer to.

“I fucking hate,” Dean presses a kiss to the side of Cas' neck, “those pills.” Dean plants another kiss to the back of his neck, right over the bruise that's already starting to form. “I meant everything, Cas, wanted you so bad.”

“Yeah, you meant everything?” Cas rolls his neck and sighs as Dean sucks his earlobe into his mouth. “Even that last part that made me spooge on your desk?” Cas gasps as Dean nips at him. “Sir?”

“God, you are fucking perfect, aren't you?” Dean releases his grip on Cas' hands so he can wrap them around his waist, awkward angle while he's still stuck inside him but totally worth it when Cas moans at the contact.

“And you're all mine.”  



	2. Overtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas gets suspendered and spanked.

_Six Months Later_

 

"Cas, come into my office."

Dean sets the phone back down and smiles. He's already undone the top button of his shirt so he rolls his neck and tugs his tie down a little further.

He hears, and smells, Cas come in. Dean doesn't look up at him, though, just lets him stand there as he slowly flicks the backs of his cufflinks and slides them out of his french cuffs.

"Come over here, Cas." He hears Cas pad over to his desk. Dean keeps his eyes on the single sheet of paper laid out in the middle of the desk.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Cas." Dean sighs and looks up at his secretary, plush lips of his almost quivering already. Dean deepens his frown and shakes his head.

"I expect more from you, Cas." Dean sets his cufflinks aside and stands up, coming to stand next to Cas, leaning against the desk to face the door.

"What is that, Cas?" Dean places the pad of his index finger under the red line marring the otherwise pristine sheet of paper.

"It's a mistake, sir." Cas' voice is breathy, wisping out into the air along with the tempting scent of his slick. Dean flexes his fist to steady himself. He could fuck Cas over his desk right now, like he has a dozen times before, but he doesn't want to, not yet.

Ever since Cas had shown him that movie with James Spader and that beta girl who looked like a really sexy chipmunk, he'd been waiting for the perfect opportunity to recreate it for his mate.

"Do I tolerate mistakes, Cas?" Dean crosses his arms over his chest and cocks an eyebrow.

"No, sir." Cas won't look up at him, but Dean can imagine how black those gorgeous blue eyes would be if he did.

"It won't happen again, sir." Dean tenses his jaw as another tendril of Cas' scent wraps itself around him, sweet slick making his cock swell. Dean swallows thickly and tries to focus.

"No, it won't Cas, I'll see to that." Dean puts a little alpha growl behind it because he knows it drives Cas nuts.

Dean stretches his arms, resting them right where Cas can watch him roll his sleeves up, slowly and deliberately, like he has all night and his dick isn't cursing him to hell for keeping his pants on.

"I think you need to learn a lesson, Cas." Dean pushes his sleeves up further, forearms tensing and relaxing as Cas inhales deeply, both of them scenting the other as Cas gets wet and that dominant  _thing_  builds up in Dean. This place is gonna smell like a fucking whorehouse tomorrow and Dean is completely OK with that.

"Pull your pants down," Dean rasps against Cas' ear, pushing off the desk and coming to stand behind him.

Dean can see the blush spreading up his neck, smell the slick leaking out of him as Cas fumbles with his belt buckle.

Cas finally gets it, sliding his pants to the floor and fidgeting in his briefs.

"These, too." Dean runs a finger over the elastic waistband.

Cas hitches in a breath and tugs them down, slowly lowering them over the curve of his ass until they fall to his knees. Dean hears his dick come free at the same time as he sees the wet spot in Cas' underwear, smell of it curling up into Dean's brain, triple tap to his senses making him grit his teeth and grab his own hard cock to keep it from fucking Cas all by itself.

Dean takes a deep breath and moves next to Cas.

"Put your hands on the desk, Cas." Cas plants his palms on either side of the paper.

"Spread your legs."

Cas widens his stance and ducks his head down, so obedient, so perfect.

“Now I want you to read this out loud for me.” Dean sidles up beside Cas, lets him feel Dean's hard-on pressing into his side as Cas starts to read. Dean raises his hand and smiles.

“Dear Mrs. Selfridge, pursuant to -” Cas stops and gasps as Dean smacks his palm down on Cas' ass, loud  _thwak_  of it going right to Dean's crotch as he feels a spurt of precome leak out of him. Dean rubs his hand over all that smooth muscle that he's gotten to know so well as Cas starts up again.

“Pursuant to my earlier-” Dean lays into him again, slap to the other side, pausing to admire the way Cas' ass bounces before he does it again.

Dean doesn't stop until Cas has read the whole letter, including that one typo that it had taken Dean weeks to find.

Cas' ass is such a pretty cherry red Dean almost thinks he should take a picture, but he already has plenty of pictures of Cas doing things that would make most people blush a much deeper shade of red. Instead he just runs his hand over all that warm, pert flesh and murmurs out soothing little sounds.

Dean keeps one hand on Cas' ass as he reaches around behind himself and undoes the clips holding his suspenders to his pants. He takes the elastic, white with blue stripes to match Cas' eyes, and dumps them in a pile on top of the offending letter.

“That was good, Cas.” Dean runs his hands along Cas' back, watches him shiver under his shirt. “I think you deserve a reward.” Dean gathers the suspenders back in his hands and pushes Cas down until he's flat against the desk. He takes his arms and gently crosses his hands behind his back. Cas doesn't fight him, just slots his wrists on top of each other and sighs. This is his reward, after all.

Dean loops the elastic around his hands a few times, passing the doubled end between his wrists and knotting it to finish it off. It's not the prettiest thing he's ever done (he has pictures of that, too) but it does the job.

Dean stands back and admires the view, Cas' pretty pink ass tilted up over his desk, hands bound behind him. He's so wet, slick curling through the air to draw Dean back to him like a finger under his collar.

Dean smiles and presses himself up against Cas, grinds his hips forward to let Cas feel how hard he is, rubbing his cock right against the cleft of his ass. Cas arches up into it, already getting desperate for it, not sure which one of them gets more turned on by this. But Dean wants to hear him beg for it, all those pretty noises he makes when he forgets to act all demure.

Dean drops to his knees in one fluid motion, Cas groaning out some dirty  _ungh_  sound as he realizes what Dean's up to. Dean puts a hand on either side of Cas' warm ass and pulls, spreads him open until Dean can see his pretty, pink hole, flushed and shiny, practically winking hello at Dean.

Dean shakes his head, it still gets him each time, how fucking  _pretty_  Cas is down there, how his slick glistens as it runs down his balls, tight little ring of joy flexing at him. He presses his lips flush with it and runs the tip of his tongue around it, slight suck of his mouth drawing Cas' slick in so he can feel it seep into his tongue and make his dick ache with how hard he is.

Cas tastes so good, sweet and rich and better than anything Dean has ever tasted, and it's a lot easier to resist empty calories when Dean can stick his face in this whenever he feels like it.

Dean points his tongue and thrusts it deep inside his omega, beautiful moaning noises Cas makes filling his office as he keeps his tongue there and swirls it around, mouth open wide to cover every inch he can get to. He hums out against Cas' hole, in appreciation for how fucking good it is and because Cas fucking loves it when he does that.

“Oh, god, sir, please,” Dean hums a little louder and drags his tongue around in a slow circle. “May I come, sir?” That phrase will never get old, still makes Dean's cock drool every time he hears it. Dean murmurs out a filthy wet “Uh-huh,” not like he's going to stop now just to say yes, and Cas clearly understands him because several seconds later Dean can feel Cas' muscle tensing around his tongue as he comes, sweet scent of him everywhere as his come slides down the side of Dean's desk.

They go through a lot of paper towels these days.

Cas is still moaning and shaking as Dean stands up, pants sliding off him without his suspenders and he can't even be bothered to take his boxers off, just hikes them down enough to get his cock out and slide it right into that wet, shuddering grip.

Dean threads his fingers through the suspenders on Cas' wrists and pulls, lifting Cas' arms up far enough to be uncomfortable without hurting him.

“So fucking good for me, Cas,” Dean rocks into him, rolling his eyes back as he sinks in. “Come when I want you to, bend you over my desk like a naughty little slut,” Cas clenches down around him at that, hot and wet and fuck Dean is not going to last long.

“Take good care of my little bitch, don't I, Cas? Make you come for me, tie you off like you need me to?” Dean pulls back a few inches and presses Cas' wrists forward, gorgeous bow of his omega's back as he struggles to arch back for it without hurting his arms.

“Don't I, Cas?” Dean pulls back an inch further as Cas whimpers.

“Yes, sir,” Cas' voice sounds broken, razor edge of desperation creeping in as Dean holds him taut.

“Want it, Cas? Want my knot locked up inside you, baby?” Cas squirms under him and whines out, “Yes, sir, please.”

Dean can feel the sweat beading on his brow, his own arms starting to shake as he holds Cas by the wrists. “Say it, Cas.” Dean digs his fingers into the elastic and shakes Cas, who mewls out and cranes his head back.

“Knot me, please, fuck, sir, please, do it, god, please please please...” The last word dies in a long, pleading whine, so desperate Dean worries Cas is going to dislocate his shoulders just to get at Dean's knot.

Dean presses Cas' arms down to his back as he thrusts into him, leans his head back and ruts forward as he feels himself start to growl, uncontrollable urge he's come to love along with Cas.

“So. Fucking. Perfect.” Dean bends over Cas, purrs it into his ear as he hilts himself as deep as he can get and comes, familiar stretch against his knot as Cas opens up for him, takes him like he was made for it. Dean knows that he'll do this a thousand more times and still marvel at how right it feels, perfect fit of him pulling Dean's orgasm out of him to claim what's his. Dean moans deeply and kisses blindly at Cas' ear.

“Fucking love you, Cas, know that?”

Cas just sighs and squeezes down around him.

“Yes, sir.”

***

[This song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZxevrOKY2c&feature=results_video&playnext=1&list=PL0C70740500A3AD4E) came on my ipod as I was writing this, and I knew I had to work ring of joy into this. I am  ~~not~~  sorry  ~~at all~~.


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